The Loveliest Woman You Could Ever Happen to Meet
by Sasparilla
Summary: My name is Dolores Jane Umbridge. And I am possibly the loveliest woman you could ever happen to meet. Truly there is no one more divine than I. I am as dainty as a fairy and as intelligent as a sphinx. Hem, hem.


**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine, I'm sure.

**A/N:** This is something I found in my secret stash of fics. Can't remember when I wrote it. I had happened to catch a glimpse of a story called, _And That Is Why The Lord Created Men_ by Sohara von Salienta, which happened to be about Gilderoy Lockhart. And before I'd even started reading the idea of an Umbridge fic came to me. I didn't read the Lockhart story until after I wrote this one because I wanted mine to be as original as possible. When I did read it, I loved it and I hope mine can compare. So after you read mine go read hers as a thank you for being my unknown inspiration.

My name is Dolores Jane Umbridge. And I am possibly the loveliest woman you could ever happen to meet. Truly there is no one more divine than I. I am as dainty as a fairy and as intelligent as a sphinx.

Hem, hem

I was born with that true spirit that only a pureblood may have. It is exceptionally obvious that I am no halfblood. The pure blood runs proudly through my veins. I am sure, in fact, that if my lineage is traced far enough, I am related to such noble stuff as Slytherin, Merlin, or even Grindelwald (although he did turn rather soft in later days). I scoff, no, _cringe_ at the mere mention of muggle-born creatures. After all, in my book, it's once a mudblood, always a mudblood. Of course, I do not really approve of less than lovely words coming from my especially exceptional lips (which now, sport the most adorable shade of fuchsia I have ever had the fortune to come upon; and of course it's very expensive and very difficult to find). But I find that once or twice people (even myself) must give up certain preconceived notions for the greater good. I am nothing, if not flexible.

Hem, hem

My fingers are as beautiful as those on the Hand of Glory and my arms are those of a mermaid's (however, they make the most awful noise when they open their mouths as I was witness to at Dumbledore's funeral, but then what _can_ you expect with a dumber species of the land? So thank dear goodness that I am not like them in any other way). And may I just say that I do have quite the fashion sense. I'm simply the most well dressed woman I have ever looked at. My taste in attire rivals even the well-known clothing choices of Marianne McKinnon. Color is so very important and those that I choose fit together so well. My pink cardigans are the center of attention at any ministry social event. While other officials wear their drab standard black robes as proudly as one can possibly wear such boring, unimaginative things, I _spice_ things up a bit.

Hem, hem

I also know what is too much or too little. Every other finger on both hands must adorn a family heirloom in form of a ring. (Said heirlooms can often be bought Knockturn Alley, if not actually found in house. _Not_ that I condone shopping in Knockturn Alley.) One _must_ leave space in between rings, otherwise the appearance becomes gaudy. However, not wearing enough rings can result in an appalling belief that one is not as rich as she appears to be. That is unacceptable. People must be put in their places. Speaking of places, there is one more fashion must. Amongst my abundant, _natural_ chestnut curls (not at all a product of locksheavy potion), lies the perfect, little, jaunty, black bow. It brings out my excellent complexion, not unlike that of a veela's.

Hem, hem

I am intensely clever, you know. I have managed to not only snag the position of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, but also have newly acquired the much envied title, Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Committee. And who, better than I to run such a committee? I can _sniff_ a mudbl—I mean muggle-born all the way from Diagon Alley. In fact, I handed five little impostors over to Minister Thickness just yesterday. Stupid creatures. One of them tried to convince me that McMillan is a Wizarding last name. If that's at all true I'll sell my—on second thought, I do remember a Montrey McMillan, noted for his extensive research on the side effects of Amortentia… oh. But then again, it could just as well have been muggle. No use worrying now when it's too late. Ah, it is _such_ a pleasure to be helpful.

Hem, hem

Never, ever has there been a lovelier person than myself. I am nothing, if not polite and well-behaved (to those who deserve it). And when I receive guests both my abode and I are truly impressive. Such fantastic color combinations that the world has never before seen, are present in my office. Pink wallpaper, lilac doilies, and magenta frames are just a peek of what you will find in here. But perhaps my favorite adornments are the many ornamental plates that I have collected over the years. They hang all around the room, each sporting its very own, adorable kitten. Sometimes they all mew in perfect unison too. I find a cat's voice so soothing to my nerves.

Hem, hem

I am such a sweet-tempered individual. I cannot handle violence of any kind (unless well-deserved, of course). Why, my poor nerves would be frazzled. And it is the reason, I constantly insist, that I could never actually allow any of my students to practice their Defense Against the Dark Arts spells, during my short, but most enjoyable (whenever Dumbledore was out of the way) reign as a professor. And why, anyone should actually need to know how to use these spells is beyond me. The wizarding world is such a wonderfully _safe_ place. Dear Pius—I mean Minister Thickness—really has got everything under control. We're finally dealing with what needs to be dealt with, perfecting those unfortunate imperfections, and preserving all that need never be changed. I like to think that such things, I'm sure, would never have truly been possible without the help of a certain…hem, hem…excellent individual (myself, naturally).

Hem, hem

Without me, I really do not think things would be run so smoothly. I am a perfect peach out of many misshapen potatoes. I am the ripest pumpkin in the patch. I belong to the only _really_ intelligent species in the world (and let's be honest, I'm probably one of the most intelligent _in_ my species). Kittens adore me. Centaurs abhor me (and for their own good too because when I finally put together my army they are the first animals I shall take down. I'll never forget that little _incident_ with the—well, never mind then). I have the sweetest giggle. Really, people will fall over themselves just to hear it. It's so girlish, and why not? After all, I don't look a day over twenty-seven and that's saying something when one's age is really—yes, well, that's saying _quite_ a lot. All in all, I really am a most amazing human being. How the world ever got on without me, I will never understand. But fear not, now I am here. Thank dear goodness for lovely, pefect, pureblood (although there is that one second cousin who might… but then let's not dwell on the unknown), intelligent, beautiful _me_.

Hem, hem.


End file.
